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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25232512">The Falling Ones</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lagerstatte/pseuds/Lagerstatte'>Lagerstatte</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Episode Ignis Verse 2, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Porn with Feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:03:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,128</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25232512</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lagerstatte/pseuds/Lagerstatte</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>'Now we're waiting for our dear prince, how would you like to while away the time?' Ardyn said. 'We have, oh, two days? Three, perhaps?'</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ardyn Izunia/Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Falling Ones</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>'Now we're waiting for our dear prince, how would you like to while away the time?' Ardyn said. 'We have, oh, two days? Three, perhaps?'</p>
<p>Ignis didn't reply. He couldn't; his body was limp, utterly uncooperative. The most he could do was breathe a little shallower than he had been, and he suspected that wasn't so much choice as the result of Ardyn's weight, pressing down through his elbow onto Ignis' chest, like his body was a table to lean on. Ardyn's other hand stroked through his hair, and his thumb caressed the soft skin behind Ignis' ear. Periodically, his fingers twisted and clenched, tearing out hair in clumps as he hummed tunelessly.</p>
<p>'It's a pity, isn't it? Out of the lot of you, you, my dearest advisor, are by far the best conversationalist. So quick-witted! So sharp-sighted! But I'm afraid I have need of you for later, and we can't risk you going and ruining that, now, can we?'</p>
<p>Ignis wasn't entirely sure Ardyn knew he was conscious. It was true he was addressing him as he talked, but then, Ardyn struck him as the sort to talk purely to listen to his own voice, if more from boredom or carelessness than arrogance.</p>
<p>Perhaps he would, in his carelessness, say something valuable. Ignis did not have high hopes.</p>
<p>Ardyn's fingers ran out over Ignis' face, pressing hard against his eyelids, tracing his slack mouth. Then they slipped to Ignis' throat and tightened their grip.</p>
<p>'But come; I'm an extraordinarily patient man,' Ardyn said, weight lifting from Ignis' chest, as his fingers squeezed. Ignis’ breath wheezed and his throat burnt in agony, but he still couldn’t move. 'And three days really isn't much when one has been waiting as long as I have. Especially not when I have such delightful company.' The humid air of his words fell on Ignis' lips. His hand not on Ignis' throat slipped down to the buttons of his shirt.</p>
<p>'I suppose I ought to be recording this,' Ardyn said. His voice was theatrical in its contemplation, both hands now turning to undress Ignis, and one by one Ignis' clothes fell to the floor. Ignis lay there, pliant and lifeless, and could do nothing. The urge to fight, to kick and twist away, burnt at him, but his body was limp and would not move. His lungs breathed raggedly; his heart beat hard. 'Or perhaps not,' Ardyn said, contemplatively. He patted Ignis' bare hip. 'I suspect the bruises will be record enough.'</p>
<p> </p>
<p>- - - - - - -</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They’d seen the bruises, of course. Ignis hadn’t thought to hide them until too late, unable as he was to think beyond the black-hole absence that haunted him in Noct’s place.</p>
<p>Even now they were covered back up — bite-marks on his shoulders, the yellowing shapes of fingers on his hips and waist and inner thighs, stark and unmistakable — it was too much. He couldn’t juggle dealing with Gladio and Prompto on top of his own burst-open emotions, loneliness and loss and terrifying, alien directionlessness. With nothing to centre himself on he fell like a satellite kicked from the orbit of its celestial body.</p>
<p>To get it out of the way, he sat Gladio and Prompto down as soon as they were out of the showers. ‘Yes, to be perfectly frank — it is what it looks like. But it happened whilst I was unconscious,’ he said. ‘It was undoubtedly done to hurt Noct. I don’t remember a thing,’ he added, straight-faced, not having to fake the blunt weariness of it all, the tone that said <em>I am not open to debate about this.</em></p>
<p>‘I can only be grateful that the timing meant Noct never saw.’ That part is entirely true. He doesn’t comment on the fact that he had done nothing to shield Gladio and Prompto, who were also hurt by it, even if only as collateral.</p>
<p>That night, their last in Zegnautus Keep, Prompto hauled the thin bed-bunk mattresses to the floor, three side-by-side, and piled several high. He caught Ignis’ eye and faltered.</p>
<p>‘Uh, I mean,’ he said, and his eyes didn’t flick down to where they all knew the bruises were, but he blinked a lot and his face went red and blotchy. ‘If you want to.’</p>
<p>‘I told you,’ Ignis said, briskly. He needed to nip this in the bud before it got out of hand. ‘I don’t remember it in the least.’</p>
<p>‘Yeah, but still—’</p>
<p>‘Prompto.’ He let his voice soften. ‘If it bothers you, I won’t be offended. You don’t need to force intimacy for my sake.’</p>
<p>Prompto’s blotchiness turned tomato red. ‘No! Iggy, Ignis, no, fuck,<em> never think that</em>.’ He dropped the mattresses to wrap his arms around Ignis’ waist, and he only hesitated for a split-second.</p>
<p>By the time Gladio got back from his raid of the kitchens, Ignis and Prompto were naked, sprawled on the uneven heap of mattresses and bedclothes. Prompto lay on top, kissing Ignis’ neck, soft and wet and desperate as he rutted against Ignis’ thigh. His hands ran up and down Ignis’ sides, pawing at him, fingers nerveless in pleasure.</p>
<p>Gladio stripped silently and lay down besides Ignis. He put his hand on the back of Ignis’ head to turn it, and he kissed him, lazy and deep, the way they’d done for years. Heat poured off him, and he tugged Ignis closer until they were pressed flush, Ignis half wrapped in his arms.</p>
<p>Prompto came with a sob, a strangled shout into Ignis’ collar bone, body tightening and jerking with the uncontrolled thrusts of his hips. Come splattered onto Ignis’ thigh and between his legs, hot, wet. Prompto still mouthed at Ignis’ neck, trembling through the aftermath of his orgasm, but he let himself be rolled, boneless, off Ignis so Gladio could turn him onto his side and press his cock, hard and slick with lube, between Ignis’ thighs.</p>
<p>Obediently, Ignis pressed his legs together. The heat and weight of Gladio was overpowering, crushing, even though the only part of him on top of Ignis was his hand resting light on Ignis’ hip. Gladio started to move, and Ignis couldn’t help but moan, pant like a dog as Gladio’s thrusts rocked him bodily. Prompto was pressing against his front as if he wanted to clamber into his ribcage and live there, his lips on Ignis’ open mouth, hands on his shoulders. He pushed himself against Ignis’ cock, rubbing his body against it, rolling with Gladio’s deep thrusts.</p>
<p>Heat and sweat-slickness, the sound and smell of sex. Ignis clung to them, caught tight between them, trapped by the weight of their presence. His body was shaking, his heart flayed raw; he was crying — breathlessly, brokenly glad that even if he was falling, at least he wasn’t doing it alone.</p>
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